


Peace In My Mind

by Destiel_ships_Johnlock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drinking Games, Drunk Castiel, Drunk Dean, Drunk Sam Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Castiel, Emotionally Hurt Dean, Emotionally Repressed Dean, Everyones drunk?, Fluff, Friendship, Heavy Drinking, Heavy Swearing, Humor, Hunter Castiel, Hunter Dean, Hunter Dean Winchester, Hunter Sam, Hunter Sam Winchester, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Like, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Pre-Slash, Protective Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Sort of an AU, Swearing, except adam sorry, references, there is a lot of swearing in this fic sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-01-16 04:59:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12335952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiel_ships_Johnlock/pseuds/Destiel_ships_Johnlock
Summary: Dean Winchester wants Peace in his mind, for once.Castiel just wants to go back home.Castiel loses his powers and turns to the Winchesters for help.Set post-Swan song.  AU in which they get out of the apocalypse alright and get a break from divine drama... Until Cas turns up at their doorstep, with a broken nose and no angelic powers.





	1. nights are always honest

**Author's Note:**

> Set up of the story and kinda introduction of the characters, some (attempts at) humor and a bit of Hurt/Comfort. 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy this!
> 
> If you do, please leave Kudos or maybe even a comment, that stuff always makes my day and keeps me writing - I also answer all of them and take prompts for what you guys want to happen in the story!

_It had all started with a fistfight in a bar. Which was, to be fair, pretty god damn typical for Dean Winchester. If anything, the unusual part was that he hadn’t even been involved in this one._

_*************_

The Impala’s engine was roaring, the windows were rolled down and ACDC was blaring. Dean had to admit he was feeling pretty great. Which was…surprising considering their situation.

Sure, they had gotten through the whole apocalypse thing alright, overall. There was no literal devil hunting them and there were no angels trying to talk them into sacrificing their fucking bodies for their divine version of catch-the-flag.

Unfortunately, as soon as he and Sam had finally gotten their well-deserved break – or so he had thought – Cas had decided to become their new #1 responsibility.

Or rather, he had turned up in their newest shitty motel, bleeding all over his old trenchcoat. (Why was there always someone bleeding, for fucks sake?).

 

When Cas had knocked on the door instead of just zapping into Dean’s personal space out of nowhere, Dean had known something was wrong.

He had opened the door, taken a quick look at Cas’ broken nose and bruised cheek and whispered “ _fuck”_.

“Hello Dean. I suspect there are issues concerning the state of my nose.”

With that, he had collapsed.

 

Dean managed to catch him and awkwardly drag him over to his bed.

“Sammy…!” he called, loudly.

The angel hadn’t lost consciousness, he was leaning up against the wall, looking confused.

“Alright man, what the hell?” Dean demanded, crossing his arms.

Cas looked up at him through eyes that were unusually present and vulnerable, which made his usual long stares even more awkward.

“I have lost my powers, Dean.”

Dean should have probably said something comforting now, or at least he should have asked for some specific details or something. He knew that.

“What?” he heard himself say instead, undoubtedly sounding very sophisticated.

Sam, who had gotten out of the bathroom, snorted. “Very helpful, Dean.”

 

 

Cas didn’t seem to register either of them. He started to explain in his usual flat voice, except there was a new, very human exhaustion in it.

 “I found myself on earth and I could not hear my brothers and sisters anymore, neither the prayers and begging of your kind – I was confused. I picked up a sharp rock and gave myself a cut, to try and heal myself.” He raised his index finger to show them a small red line, maybe as long as a thumbnail.

The gesture seemed almost a little absurd considering the amount of major injuries he was clearly trying to conceal.

 

“It did not work.” Castiel looked very lost in that moment, and some part of Dean wanted to comfort him – But how would he? The angel continued his story.

 

“I searched through my pockets, found some money and…. Nothing else. The money must have been put there by Jimmy Novak.”

Dean raised his eyebrows, but when he thought about it, it made sense – Cas hadn’t had a reason to look through the man’s stuff and the trench coat always seemed to restore itself to its original state.

 

Dean looked at Sam over his shoulder – His brother was good at talking. And Dean had no idea how to continue this conversation. Fortunately, Sammy got the hint.

“Uh, alright Cas. We’ll fix this. Don’t worry. So… you lost your powers, but how did you get this… you know…?”

“-Fucked up?”, Dean finished the question.

Cas’ face started to twist in concentration, Dean could almost see him thinking carefully about his answer and the precise definition of “fucked up” in this context.

 

“I did not know what to do. I decided to walk into the next bar and ask for help. “

Dean snorted. He couldn’t help it.

“Didn’t go terribly well, huh?”

 

Cas looked confused for a second, wondering what was funny about his previous statement.

Dean almost regretted his joke considering how that confused expression looked in Cas’ beat-up face.

“No… It didn’t. It appears I have angered several men with greater physical power than me. They were convinced I was trying to mock them.”

Dean sighed. “Alright, how bad is it?”

Cas thought for a second.

“I don’t know. I have never experienced pain in this human way before – It hurts… in my face. Also in my legs. They gave out when I tried to come in.”

Dean tried to go for a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I noticed. Sam, get the med kit!”

An hour later, Cas was more or less patched up sleeping on the couch in their motel room – Neither of the Winchesters had been willing to give up their bed.

 

 

Nine AM the next day, they were on the road again, heading to Bobby’s. 

Cas had been banished to the backseat after Sam had called shotgun at breakfast - Dean had rarely ever seen something as funny as the scene that had unfolded immediately after.

“Shotgun? _Where_?” 

“No Cas, don’t panic…”               

Dean still grinned at the thought.

 

But jokes aside, they didn’t know what to do next – And whenever that happened, Bobby’s house in Sioux Falls was step one.

Dean had called him earlier – Bobby was on a hunt, but he had given them permission to stay at his for a while after hearing about their situation.

 

He was grateful for that – The newly human Cas had lost his angelic powers without gaining any of the experience that made regular humans able to function properly. It was kind of like taking care of a toddler – A toddler with a ridiculous god complex who kept insisting he was in full control of the situation.

 

Plus, apparently it had taken Sam less than a day to decide Dean was destined to be the care giver for Cas. Dean, out of all people! Dean sucked at responsibility. He was barely able to keep himself working, he didn’t need Cas to require looking after.

But the former angel clearly did. He didn’t remember that he had to sleep now – He had almost panicked because “his eyes were closing without his permission”. He had to be reminded to eat more than once a day and to not move too much because of his bandages. It was ridiculous.

 

The drive to Bobby’s was long, and they decided for a short stop – Possibly a few hours of sleep and at the very least some rest.

The motel looked like every shitty motel in all of the mid-west. Dean had talked Cas into leaving his blood-stained trench coat in the car – They didn’t need police going after them for yet another thing.

Sam smiled politely at the receptionist. “One room, two beds please”

She looked at them with a questioning look on her face.

“Sir, you’re three people. “

Sam looked put off for a second – This was new.

“Uh, you got field beds or something?”

The receptionist just looked at Sam strangely now, probably wondering whether she should call security. Dean shoved his brother aside lightly to smile at her with his best flirty smirk.

“What he means is… We don’t got that much money on us… Maybe you could make a special deal for us?” He winked at her, making her blush – This wasn’t going bad.

 

 

“How does this work every single time?”, Sam asked five minutes later, in the elevator to their room – a two-bed room with a fold-out couch. They didn’t even have to pay extra for the third guest.

“I don’t know, Sammy. Must be my charming aura.”

“Actually, your soul’s aura is rather dark in nature. If anything, it’s your…  I think it’s called _vibes_ that are charming”, Cas interrupted, clearly proud of this new piece of human vocabulary.

Sam just started laughing hysterically.

“very helpful”, Dean mumbled under his breath.

He spent the rest of the ride awkwardly staring at his feet.

 

When they stepped inside their slightly-below-average hotel room, Cas spoke up again, as always out of motherfucking nowhere.

“I’m unwilling to spend another night on the couch.” He declared proudly, dropping his bag (filled with nothing but his trench coat and takeaway from the last KFC they’d passed)

 

The Winchesters exchanged looks.

“Hey, without me, we wouldn’t even be in this room. Your turn, Sammy.”

“What? No. Forget it. Last time we slept in the car, you got the backseat…”

 

No less than half an hour later, Sam threw up his hands in defeat and sank down on the couch.

“Fine. I give up. But I shower first.”

Dean grinned in satisfaction and threw his bag on the bed closest to the window.

When he was about to sit down, he noticed Cas was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, staring at the wall.

“Dude?”, Dean asked in the lack of a better thing to say.

“Yes Dean?”

“You ever stayed at a motel?”

Cas merely shook his head and turned to look at Dean.

“Look, you’re supposed to relax now – Sit down on the bed, watch some TV. We can get the blood off your stuff later. “

Cas nodded and dutifully sat down on the bed.

“Are we going to watch the TV now?” he asked.

Dean let out a small laugh.

“Sure, we can. What do you want to do?”

Cas thought about that for a while. It occurred to Dean that he had never seen the guy read a book or watch a TV show before.

“I do not know. What is it that you’d usually do?”

Dean shrugged. He grabbed the remote and zapped through the channels.

“Look, Star Wars is on! That’s a classic. Ever seen it?”

“No” Cas replied, looking at the screen with his trademark concentrated bird expression, brows slightly furrowed, edges of his mouth drawn down a little, all serious and focused. 

Dean noticed he was staring. He quickly focused on Star Wars again.

 

A few hours later, Dean was thinking it hadn’t been _such_ a good idea to fight over who could stay on the bed – Sam was sleeping soundly on his couch (that didn’t even look _that_ uncomfortable) while Dean had to deal with a fallen angel who didn’t understand the concept of personal space.

 

At first, he’d had to argue with Cas about him actually needing sleep now (“Look, you eat, you bleed, Like it or not, you’re a human for now. Lie down.”)

Cas had fallen asleep very quickly after that, like a stubborn kid that had pretended to be wide awake for hours. Problem was, as soon as he’d drifted off, he had started slowly rolling over in the general direction of Dean – Which made him uncomfortable, to say the least.

 

Right now, it was 3 am. Dean was lying awake as usual, staring at the ceiling. Ever since hell, he hadn’t been able to sleep properly anyways, and the apocalypse hadn’t helped.

By now, Cas had gotten so close that Dean could feel his warmth besides him. He didn’t plan on going all _Brokeback_ on Cas tonight, but he didn’t wanna wake him up either, the guy had to be really fucking exhausted. Plus, waking him up would mean multiple hours of looking after him, which Dean just wasn’t fucking prepared for right now.

 

Five, or ten, or maybe forty minutes later, Dean couldn’t stand it any longer. He got up, ridiculously careful not to disturb Cas, got his jacket and his car keys, and grabbed a leftover beer on his way out – He wished he had something stronger to put himself to sleep, but it was better than nothing.

 

He sat down on an empty box, leaning against the impala. He felt the cold night air and slowly drank his beer, careful not to think about anything.

Life seemed quite alright.

 

Until he heard noises from the motel – He couldn’t have said how much time had passed, but the beer had become pleasantly cold and he was even starting to feel sleepy, so it had to be a while.

He turned around, and he couldn’t say he was surprised when he saw Cas standing in the door frame, looking lost.

Dean simply turned around again and waited.

 

The angel sat down on the ground next to Dean with awkward, slow movements. His hair was tangled from sleep and his lips were swollen – He looked like he had just had sex, Dean thought amused.

 

“So, what ‘you even doing here?”, Dean asked quietly.

“I woke up, and you weren’t there, I didn’t know what to do… So I went to look for you.”

He sounded strangely human with his new, husky voice and dry throat.

“Looks like you found me, huh.”

 

After a long pause, Cas spoke again. ‘Caus this guy really didn’t know when to be quiet.

“Why are you out here?”

Dean shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, I almost never can these days. I needed somewhere quiet.”

In another time, he wouldn’t have said that, and deep down he knew that. But he was too tired to lie, and nights were always honest.

Cas nodded.

“Dean…?” he asked suddenly, sounding almost desperate.

“Yes?”

“I’m afraid.” Castiel admitted very quietly, looking away from Dean.

Dean didn’t say anything. Cas continued.

“I have neither experienced emotions nor needs in such a human way. It hasn’t been pleasant so far, and I wish for nothing more than to be back… back home.”

 

Dean looked up – He hadn’t expected anything like this sudden outburst of emotion. He didn’t know how to react, but he remembered that Sammy had often been similarly scared at night – Of the monsters under his bed, that Dean would be angry at him, that Dad wouldn’t come home this time. He decided it was no different now.

 

“That’s the night, you know. I mean, you probably haven’t experienced this before, but for humans nights make everything worse. You gotta wait it out, and in the morning you’ll feel better.”

“Thank you, but… It’s not that. I’ve felt like this ever since it happened – Ever since I’ve become…. Alone. Dean, you can’t know what it’s like to be cut off like that – Yesterday I could hear all of the heavenly host and every human prayer, and now… It’s only silence. It feels like being the only living thing in the universe.”

 

Well, maybe this _was_ different than Sam’s monster under the bed. But he had to help Cas somehow, right?

 

“Hey man, look at me-“he waited until Cas lifted his eyes off the ground to look at Dean. “I promise you, we’ll fix you up. We’re gonna be at Bobby’s tomorrow night, and once we’re there you’ll be your old self in no time. We’ll handle this.”

  
Cas didn’t look like he bought it, but at least he seemed grateful for Dean’s words.

They didn’t go to sleep again, they simply sat there silently looking into the night, until the sky became a light grey blanket above them and it was time to get on the road again.

 


	2. Spin the bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team free will gets drunk instead of doing research

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this chapter is inapproprite as f*ck in at least 3 different ways so yeah... Don't drink too much kids?
> 
> Okay, so it m i g h t have been 3 months instead of two weeks... I'm really sorry basically I forgot this fic exists, but it's still super fun to write so I'm continuing it, even tho I doubt there is anyone reading this lol. But if you enjoyd it, please please leave comments/kudos because they're really what keeps me writing ;-)

The next night, they arrived at Bobby’s.

Cas had spent the majority of the ride either sleeping or complaining. Dean had insisted on driving – It had become worse, recently, although he refused to think about that. He knew if he closed his eyes, he’d see hell, he’d see Sam’s face with Lucifer’s eyes and Bobby being stabbed. The seemingly endless highway before him was a much more pleasant sight. 

When he pulled up on Bobby’s parking lot, the angel was sleeping again.

Dean turned off the engine, Sam grabbed his bag and got out of the car.  
“Home sweet home”, Dean murmured. He turned around to tab Cas on the shoulder lightly. They hadn’t talked much after that night outside their motel – Dean was thankful for that. Castiel hadn’t ever been as forceful as Sammy. He didn’t push Dean. And so he’d kept his distance, careful not to overstep boundaries.

Lisa, Sammy, hell… even his dad had taught Dean Winchester a lesson – When he let people inside of him, it never ended well. And Cas was dangerous when it came to that. Dean had a feeling a weird sort of friendship was developing between them, and he didn’t like it.

So he suppressed the urge to make a shitty joke about _sleeping beauty_ when Cas’ eyes opened slowly to look up at him.

 

He just got out of the car instead, yelling over his shoulder. “Common, take your shit – We’re there!”

When he joined Sammy at the door, his brother had already unlocked the door with their emergency key. Cas stopped a few meters behind them to look at the house.

“Is it just me or do you only ever end up here when there’s trouble?” Dean asked with a grin, turning around to look at Cas.

He thought for a second. “There appears to be a correlation between unfortunate circumstances and me visiting this house.” He finally said with a nod.

Dean sighed and walked inside.

 

It felt good to be back. The last time him and Sammy had been here, they’d had the apocalypse to deal with. It had felt like a messy, feverish nightmare. It had been hectic, they had just tried to get through it, tried to survive. It was very different now.

They had Cast to deal with, but it was only the three of them. They didn’t need to run; they didn’t need to fight. They could remember the happy days they’d had here as children in relative peace while doing research.

At least, that’s what Dean was thinking until he set a foot in the library and remembered just how _many_ fucking books there were… When he looked at them again, he caught himself almost missing Lucifer.  

***

A few hours later, they all sat in Bobby’s kitchen. Dean had taken a shower and then laid down to nap for a few minutes – He’d managed twenty.

Sam had done research – He said he had found something promising, but still needed to read more. Dean hadn’t been in the mood for a fight, so he didn’t push it.

Meanwhile, Cas had apparently spent his evening on the couch, awkwardly staring at the wall. Dean decided to show him how to turn on the TV later.

 

Now, it was only 10 pm and none of them felt like going to bed – They needed something to do.

 “Let’s watch somethin’”, Dean proposed.

“And what? You know I hate Indiana Jones, right?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Man, we’ve been through this. Indiana Jones rocks.”

“Forget it.”

Dean winked.  “Fine, but Cas is gonna miss out on a classic”

Cas’ eyes wandered between them as if he was watching a tennis match.

“I know something you’ll like”, Sam turned to Cas, “Titanic.”

“No.” Dean interrupted. “That’s not debatable.”

He wasn’t about to let Sam ruin Cas’ taste in movies forever.

Sam bitchfaced him. “Dean, you don’t get to decide – “

Cas decided to interrupt. “Please, don’t fight about something this trivial – There is a good possibility I only have the pathetic life expectancy of your species left now, and if that’s the case, I value my time too much for this.”

 

They were both silent for a good minute, taken off guard.

“Relax, Lester Burnham – You’re like 35.” Dean grumbled finally, incapable of reacting appropriately pissed off.

Sam let out a long breath.

 “Alright, what do you want to do then?”

Cas tilted his head, as if he’d never thought about that before.

“The appropriate thing would be to discuss my weakened state and do more research on how to regain my angelic powers.”

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. “No way”, they said simultaneously.

“Cas, we’ve been driving for two days. Bobby is doing research. You’re not dying. That means we get to relax for one fucking evening.” Dean tried for a bitchface, but he knew deep down that was Sam’s realm.

Cas seemed to think carefully about that.

“Fine. I used to spend my free time praying.”

Dean looked at him for a moment. “Alright, I’m way to sober for this conversation”

He got up, going through Bobby’s drawers.

Sam scuffed and started to debate movie taste with Cas again, a background noise Dean soon started to plainly ignore.

 

He was rampaging through the kitchen cupboards. Bobby didn’t have any food left – He found a moldy loaf of breath and some butter cookies, which he tossed on the table. And then…

“Bingo!” He turned around, wide grin on his face – Right at the back off the last cupboard, hidden behind some old porcelain dishes, he’d found two old, expensive bottles of whiskey. Dean had missed shit like this during judgment day.

Cas’ expression remained blank, but Sam pulled up an eyebrow.

“Bobby’s going to kill us for this.”

Dean just grinned wider. “I know. But hey, we stopped the fucking apocalypse. We saved humanity’s ass. And we still haven’t celebrated properly.”

Sam laughed. “Actually, you’ve been doing nothing but celebrating for the last month! Did you forget your little twin adventure in Nebraska already?”

Dean grinned. “How could I? That was one hell of a weekend. But back to the point, _you_ haven’t celebrated. And neither has Cas.”

Sam sighed. “Fine. But I swear, shut up about your latest weird hook-ups. I’m still disturbed from having Lucifer in my head, I don’t need anything else screwing with my sanity.”

Dean laughed. “What else is gonna entertain us, then?”

Cas clinked in, expression concentrated.

“I have observed humans enjoy participating in group activities involving personal questions and cards when under the influence of alcoholic beverages.”

 “Cas… Are you suggesting a drinking game?” Sam asked after another awkward one-minute pause.

Cas’ expression brightened. “Yes, that is the phrase I’ve been looking for.”

Dean burst out laughing, then set down the bottles on the table.

“Alright, bring it on.”

***

They settled for a classic game of spin the bottle, with a half empty beer they’d found in the fridge that Dean had downed quickly so they could use the bottle. It wasn’t really a drinking game, but since Sam and Dean kept daring each other to take shots, it quickly became one.   


After an hour, Dean was feeling slightly dizzy, laughing at everything Sam said. Sam was slurring his words and grinning like an idiot. Dean had always been better at holding his liquor.

Meanwhile, Cas had been drunk since he took his first sip (He’d pulled a hilarious face Dean was planning to remember forever) and was now laying with his head on the table, ridiculously wasted.

“Hey Dean… Did you know Sam watched Les Miserables with me?” He slurred, looking up at Dean with gazed blue eyes.

Sam burst into giggles like an awkward teenage girl. “Shhh Cas… You promised not to tell!”

Dean looked at him. “For real? How did I not know? What the fuck?”

Sam was trying to talk, laugh and drink all at the same time, and spit whiskey onto Dean’s shirt.

That wasn’t what offended Dean though.

“Sammy… You can’t just ruin him like that!”

“Hey, Dean… You were hooking up with someone at a bar, and I didn’t have anything to do. Cas came to visit, I had to keep him from interrupting your one-night stand, and I thought I could show him some human pop culture.”  
  
Dean’s mouth was hanging open. How had he not known this? Les Mis… He’d watched that with some girl he was trying to fuck once, and the sex hadn’t even been worth it. It was just awful, how did Cas sit through that?

“I liked it.” Cas said, giggling too now. “It reminded me… reminded me of the French revolution. Good ol’ days, ya know?”

Dean shook his head. “I hope you know that hurt!” he told his brother, but Sammy just laughed and spun the bottle again.

It pointed to Cas. “Truth or dare, Cas?” Dean asked, grinning. He wasn’t good at holding grudges when he was drunk.

“Truth”. It had been the only thing the angel had taken since Dean dared him to watch a porno for the first time and he’d had to take two shots to avoid doing it.

Sam sighed. “Fine. You ever thought someone looked hot? Like, did you ever want to… screw someone?” Damn, Whiskey made Sam a lot less proper.

  
Cas thought about that. “Yes”, he replied calmly.

Dean spit out his drink, getting his revenge on Sam.

“ _What?_ ”

“Who was it?”, Sam asked curiously.

Cas looked at them, frowning. “I… I don’t have to answer that. Wouldn’t be very… wise, either.”

Dean was in complete shock. He had assumed even after Cas had come down here, that he’d be kind of… immune to being turned on, or something. But it made sense when he thought about it. If Cas had human needs now, that probably included a sex drive.

 

“Dean? Are you still here?” Sam laughed and Dean joined in, and once they’d started it was hard to stop.  

“Damn… Who would have thought that. I knew what I was doing when I suggested that porno.” He managed to get out.

That only made him and Sam laugh louder, and Cas joined in too, although he probably didn’t even get the joke.

 

After they’d calmed down – it felt like at least 15 minutes had passed - they started drinking again, and after that things became a little… unrestrained.

 

At some point, they actually got Cas to watch the beginning of a porno, until he asked what he was feeling “in his pants” and they had to take Sam’s computer away from him.

Dean dared Sam to send nudes to a random number, Sam dared Dean to sing all the lyrics to _Bohemian Rhapsody_ and filmed the whole thing with his phone.

 

The night ended with Cas finally half- asleep, half- passed out on the table, Sam puking in the bathroom and Dean looking at the pitiful rest of Bobby’s whiskey in their second bottle – He finished it with a shrug.

The bad news: Sam had fallen asleep on the floor when Dean came to check on him about ten minutes later. Which meant, it was his job to take care of Cas.

 

Sam had gotten drunk before. All Dean really had to do was throw a blanket over him. He was almost too drunk to do even that, but he managed.

With Cas, it was a little more complicated. The dude had never been drunk before, which sure as hell meant he was going to wake up, puke and call an ambulance if Dean wouldn’t keep him from doing it.

The clear majority of Dean just wanted to lie down and sleep out his drunkenness, but some part of him felt guilty for getting Cas this drunk in the first place, so he tried his best to lift him up, Cas arm over Dean, his head on Dean’s shoulder. Dean sighed, trying not to fall down. Cas was very nearly falling down, most of his body awkwardly dragging over the floor.

Dean managed to get him into the living room and shove him onto the couch. He rearranged him until he looked comfortable enough and placed a bucket next to him. It would be needed.

He was about to fall asleep standing and decided to just sleep on the old chair.

For once, it took him less than a minute to drift off.

***

Dean woke up and felt awful. The first thing he noticed was that it was still dark outside. The second thing was the cold sweat on his body and that his eyes were burning as if he’d cried - he’d had a nightmare, and now he actually remembered it again. Great. He didn’t want to think about it though, so he just focused on anything else.

His neck hurt from the uncomfortable position on the chair, and his mouth tasted seriously gross. He remembered that he was in Bobby’s house and that he had drunken yesterday – A lot. He didn’t feel hungover though, which meant he was still drunk.

“Dean?” Was that Cas?

“Dean, I feel –“ He stopped speaking and Dean could hear him throw up.

He sighed. This day really wasn’t starting out great.

He got up, immediately sat down again as his head started spinning and then got up again, much slower this time. He managed to find one of the lamps on the wall and saw Bobby’s living room… And Cas leaning over the bucket, hair tangled, pale face and trenchcoat wrinkled. He looked awful. Jesus fucking Christ.

Slowly, he made his way over to Cas again, sitting down next to him and putting a hand on his shoulder.   
Cas looked up. At least the idiot hadn’t gotten any puke on his face or shirt. It was almost impressive considering how drunk he still had to be.

“Dean, I’m dying!”

“Nah buddy… Trust me, you’ll be okay. I’ve been there. Why are you even awake?”

Cas hesitated. “You were screaming.”

Dean looked down. He didn’t answer, he couldn’t. They sat there in silence until Cas spoke up.

“Dean… I’m so sorry. I never wanted to become a burden for you and your brother.” His voice was shaky, and when Dean met his gaze he had tears in his eyes. It was the classic sad drunk stage everybody goes through at some point, but the sight still kinda hurt. Dean awkwardly put an arm around his friend – He wouldn’t have done it while sober, or in daylight, but right now he didn’t care.

Cas let himself sink against his shoulder silently. Dean didn’t know what to do – Cuddling with your drunk dude friends really wasn’t a normal thing to do. Hell, it wasn’t even something he’d do with hot one-night stands.

On the other hand, if he moved now, he’d have to listen to Cas cry about his existential crisis for the next hour, so he simply stayed there, the angel’s head on his shoulder, the rest of him awkwardly spread out over the couch. Dean noticed that Cas smelled human for the first time – Like Whiskey, sleep and sweat. He closed his eyes and waited – he didn’t expect to fall asleep again, but at some point he drifted off, probably due to the alcohol still flooding his system.


	3. Theories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team free will discuss theories. Also, they're all hungover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for motivating me to continue this, it's so much fun to write! I hope you like it too. If you do, please let me know by leaving a comment / kudos - They mean so much to me and I answer all of them, I also take suggestions/prompts for the story or other fanfics :-D

Dean woke up pretty much exactly like he usually did – Tangled around someone else in an inappropriate position, hungover and confused about what happened the night before.

Slight difference: The other person – who should have really been a hot girl he didn’t know – was Cas. Good news: He was fully dressed. Bad news: It took him a while to notice all of this.

At first, he just felt warm and fuzzy from sleep, more rested than he’d been in weeks. He could feel that the room he was in was bright from sunlight – he’d actually managed to sleep in. Feeling comfortable, he shifted against the body wrapped around him – That didn’t feel too bad either.

Except he was feeling clothes, and beneath that hard muscles instead of curves. At that, the comfortable dizziness of the morning started to vanish. It was gone fully once he heard a way too familiar voice whispering his name. “Dean?” Cas asked with his hot morning – Hold on, did Dean just think _hot_? No. He asked with his rough morning voice, making Dean jump. Better.

He was wide awake now, looking at Cas’ messy hair and pale face, then down at himself. Clothes. Thank god. The memories of last night were returning too, calming him considerably. He’d just been way too tired, and Cas fell asleep on him, so he’d drifted off. Somehow, Cas had ended up on top of him, but there was probably an explanation for that too. Anyways, it was time to get away.

So he slowly got up, laughing awkwardly. “Hungover, huh? Gonna get better, promise. I’ll be… taking a shower.” With that, he very nearly ran out of the living room. Besides being a decent excuse, a shower _did_ sound good.

 

  
A couple minutes later, he opened the bathroom door, already taking off his shirt – And nearly pissed himself.

Sam was laying on the floor, looking at him through half-closed eyelids.

“Alright, what the fuck happened last night?” Dean asked, quickly putting his shirt back on.

Sam had looked up to him, blinked twice, then let his head sink down again slowly. “I have no idea. The last thing I remember is you opening a bottle of Bobby’s whiskey. Guess it escalated after that?”

Dean sighed in annoyance. “Man, get outta here. I need a shower. And take a look at Cas too, poor bastard’s having his first hangover.”

Sam laughed a little and started to get up slowly, apparently deciding it was too early for sarcastic bickering anyways.

 

Dean took an hour long shower, taking care of _certain things._ He refused to think about why that was necessary at all. He also thought about what to do now. Cas had lost his powers, downgraded to an overgrown toddler, and all they’d done so far was drive him around and drink. Sam had said he had found something – He was gonna have to tell him about it today. Dean would work through some of Bobby’s books. Spells, curses, angel rivalries, Crowley playing games – This could be just about anything. He sighed at the thought – They’d survived fucking Armageddon and now this? Pretty unfair.

***

When they gathered around the kitchen table around noon, Dean had brought some books from the library and Sam was staring at his screen with his trademark concentrated frown. Cas looked like a walking corpse, but he wasn’t puking, so that was something.

“Alright, Cas. So we’re gonna try to fix you now, working, no more drinking.” The angel just nodded, holding his head. He seemed on board with the whole “no more drinking” thing.

“So… got anything, Sammy?”

Sam sighed. “Well yes. I researched spells first, but I don’t think any of them work on angels at all, so I tried to find monsters that could do this… There aren’t any records of anyone being turned human by monsters though, only killed.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. Was that all? It wasn’t monsters…duh.  “So you got nothing?”

Sam looked offended. “No. I had a thought. Angels are much more powerful than humans, I don’t think they’d die the same way humans do if they were attacked by a monster. Maybe they’d be… downgraded instead. Made human. Of course, most monsters just kinda stab and eat you – But others have their own killing mechanisms, too.”

Dean couldn’t help but snort. “Cas, fought any Djinns recently? Maybe a Chupacabra? Sam, he’d have told us if he’d lost any paranormal fights in the last couple weeks.”

Cas spoke up surprisingly, sounding only slightly dead. “Dean, he might have a point – Whatever did this to me, _I do not remember it._ It could be anything, and if this… transformation was the angelic equivalent of death, the memory loss would make sense. New souls in heaven often don’t recall how they passed away.”

Dean thought about that for a second. He’d seen enough ghosts not remembering their decease. Still… It was hard to imagine Cas getting killed off by your typical mid-range, soul-eater.  “Okay, I’ll give you that – But he’s an angel. I doubt a regular monster would have managed to do this to him.”

“That’s what I thought. If anything, it’d have to be an incredibly powerful one. If it had wanted revenge on Cas, it would have killed him. I think whatever it was thought he was prey. Cas likely wasn’t his only victim. So, you need to tell us more. What’s the last thing you remember? Where did the trouble start?”

Cas sighed. “I was negotiating. You know I came out of the apocalypse as the new leader of the heavenly host. But there are still angels waiting to rebel against me once they’ve recovered their full strength. I am sick of the war. Enough of us have died. I offer the leaders of those groups high positions in the new order, and promise honors and good positions for their followers. In exchange, most grant me loyalty.

One of those deals was sealed that day. I decided to reward myself with a break and visited earth. One of my favorite places is a park in Spencer, Iowa- “

“Hold on”, Dean interrupted, “You’re an angel. You can visit… every fucking place on earth. And you choose _Iowa?”_

Cas shrugged. “Well, you get tired of all the historically significant places, you know? I was assigned to watching over humanity. Do you know how many times I’ve been to Paris, Shanghai, Washington? I’m sick of it, if I have to see Kairo one more time… Nothing has ever happened in Spencer before though, so it’s new for me. When I go there to relax, I don’t have to remember revolutions, genocides or the invention of Spaghetti…”

Sam interrupted him, slightly annoyed as always. Dean had just gotten used to it by now. “Alright, so you were walking through the park in Spencer?”

Cas nodded. “I was sitting on a bench and watching over the children playing in the grass and their mothers talking to each other…”

“You call it watching over, I call it stalking.”

“Dean, please shut the hell up for 10 minutes, okay?”

“Damn it, Sam, somebody needs to explain these things to him. Sorry Cas, back to the point…”

 

“After an hour I got up again, continued to walk through the park… And then my memory gets weirdly fuzzy. I remember less and less. The last thing I can recall is standing in front of a small lake and thinking that I needed to go back to heaven soon. That’s it. Next thing I knew; I woke up in silence. Still in Spencer. I went to ask for help… And you know the rest.”

Dean was silent. He’d heard a lot of weird stories in his life as a hunter, but this was among the strangest.

Sam smiled. “Bingo.”

“What?” Cas looked confused. “What does a gambling game have to do with this?”

“No man, it’s something you say when something works out.” Dean attempted. “Like, when Sam found something about what happened to you.”

Sam nodded. “Strange deaths in Spencer. Looks like poison, but they couldn’t find any known ones in their bodies.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. He still wasn’t buying into the whole monster-pseudo-killing-Cas-thing. He’d seen the guy fight. “Is that all? I mean, we wouldn’t usually check that out, would we?”

“There have been three deaths already. Just in the last _week_. None of the victims knew each other. A child, an old man and a guy in his twenties. All had pained expressions, cramped bodies, puked before they died and none of them had any visible injuries. Dean, even if this has nothing to do with Cas, innocent people are dying. It’s a job. Family business, you know?”

“We should be working on Cas’ case. We don’t have enough evidence. He’s family. Family first, then family business.” Dean clenched his jaw. They needed to get their friend back on his feet before they went hunting again. Also, he didn’t want Sam to be right. But mainly, the family thing.

  
Cas shook his head. “Dean, I’m not in immediate danger. We should check out the case in Spencer.” He said quietly. Dean looked at him, taken by surprise. “But isn’t this urgent? You’re needed up there.”

Cas smiled now, even though weakly. “I’ve had some time since the apocalypse. I could build a solid, loyal base. They’re angels, they’ll remain in their positions. Hester, my second in command, will hold control until I return – Or she’ll keep it if I can’t.”

“Second in command, huh?” Dean smirked. “But seriously, could she be involved in this? She has something to gain from your fall. And to be honest, if I learned anything about you celestial bastards, it’s that you don’t always stick by the protocol. You had a damn civil war.”

Cas shook his head. “It’s nothing like that. The angels were fighting because there was no protocol. They were lost, and without direction they turned on each other. But at core, they like rules. All of them. That’s the difference between our kinds. Hester is trustworthy, we have been in the same garnison for longer than your civilization has existed. Also… I realize you turn jealous whenever I have close friends, but I can assure you our relationship is purely professional. I do not feel any personal bond to her.”

Dean opened his mouth, but he didn’t say anything – He should probably deny this, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Of course, Sam laughed loudly. Then he brought a hand to his temple with a pained expression. “Shit”, he groaned regretfully.

“That’s what you get.” Dean mumbled.

“I’m not jealous. It just made sense.” He added out loud, trying to sound pissed off.

Sam had regained his integrity. “So, we’re driving to Spencer? Unless you have a better plan.”

Dean sighed. “Alright, but we’re not leaving until eight, I need some more rest. Also, we better get back here before Bobby does, and bring two good bottles of scotch.”

“Alright, I’ll pack some things. Uh, Cas, borrow some stuff, too… Your clothes are kinda dirty.”

“Sammy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m driving.”


End file.
